Movin' On
by w8ing4huddy
Summary: A one-shot based off of Cuddy's engagement to Lucas Not a songfic but named after a song all the same


Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

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_(To those of you reading At The End Of Her Rope, please, please, PLEASE forgive me for writing a one-shot when you're all eagerly (well, if you're irritated with me it would HAVE to be because you are eager, right?) awaiting the next chap! I AM in the process of writing it and I am NOT dropping that story. It's just that I have all these crazy one-shots swirling around in my head in my continual desperation to have SOMETHING good happen between House and Cuddy on the show RIGHT NOW and I'm HOPING that in actually getting one of them out of my system, I'll be able to move forward. I really DO hope you'll enjoy this though. I think I am going through a phase where I am in love with Joe Purdy's music and especially, his lyrics. __Since this chapter is NOT a songfic and the song I've named it after doesn't encapsulate the chapter enough to warrant including the lyrics (really, it's only applicable in part and only to the first portion of this fic), I'll just settle for recommending Joe Purdy to you. I wish I COULD name one of his songs as my particular favorite, but truth it, I love the great majority of them! Though "California Girl" and "Miss Me" are definitely the first songs of his with which I fell in love. :) __)_

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House looked up from his desk where he sat reading a medical journal as Wilson entered his office, watching him from over the rims of his glasses. "You look like someone just kicked your puppy," he sarcastically observed, setting the journal down on his desk to remove his glasses, not objecting to the interruption.

"It's worse than that," Wilson exhaled with a huff, now rubbing his temple where he stood just inside the door, his other hand resting on his waist.

"Oooh, goody!" House started, rubbing his hands together mock-gleefully. "Don't tell me… Sam broke up with you… _Again?"_ he quipped dryly, a slight trace of amusement edging his voice before he defended himself just in case. "I'll tell you right now, whatever happened, it wasn't me."

Wilson rolled his eyes but wearily approached, then sat down in the seat across from him. Ignoring House's last jibe or comment or whatever it _was_, he leaned forward almost repentantly and said, "I have to tell you something."

And that's when House's body hit red alert. He froze in his chair, just waiting for it, his knuckled white with the grip with which he clung to his seat as his face blanched, his expression quickly growing serious. Swallowing hard, he managed to expel a ragged question of all of two words, "My mom?"

"No!" Wilson immediately objected, shaking his head, his eyes wide. "It has nothing to do with your mom."

House released the breath he'd been holding, his grip on the chair relaxing as he straightened. "Geez Wilson. Don't do things like that to me. Unless you want to be stuck next to a hospital bed from my stroking out," he irritably muttered, mostly because he didn't appreciate Wilson knowing how much he'd been scared to think something had happened to his mom.

"Sorry," Wilson abashedly mumbled, truly looking as if he felt bad for scaring him, even if he also looked strangely relieved in that being House's worst case scenario of the moment.

House scrutinized him, a frown forming as his eyebrows drew together. "What _did _you come here to tell me?" he reluctantly pressed.

Wilson cleared his throat, looking away while he loosened his tie slightly to undo the top button of his shirt. Meeting House's gaze, he pursed his lips but then stated, "Lucas just proposed to Cuddy at the front nurse's station."

House stared at him for a second but then dropped his eyes and nodded slowly. With an eerie degree of calm, he completed for his friend, "And she said yes."

Wilson nodded apologetically and House caught the jerky movement of his head out of the corner of his eye. House nodded again in response and then pushed his chair back to get up. "Thanks for telling me," he replied evenly, the lack of emotion with which he said it troubling to Wilson. He'd expected House to blow up. Or at the very least, _smash_ something. The fact that he hadn't was almost more troublesome. But then he supposed he could have expected this too, for House hadn't said much one way or the other about Cuddy and Lucas in months, not since he'd walked away, ending all attempts to destroy their relationship, almost as if in not saying anything, their relationship, or its effect on him, would be nullified.

"Where are you going?" he asked then, watching House as he made his way for the door.

House shot a look back at him and shrugged. "Guess I might as well get it over with and go and congratulate them," he nonchalantly said.

Wilson looked at him with rising suspicion and got to his feet to follow him. "You aren't going to _do _anything, are you?" he queried doubtfully, weighing in his mind whether or not this was a bad idea and whether he ought to dissuade his best friend from going anywhere right now.

House scoffed as he pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway with Wilson right behind him, but wryly asked, "Like what? Make another announcement from the balcony?"

Wilson rolled his eyes, coming alongside him. "Like cause a scene," he corrected, knowing House wouldn't do anything like that, for it would only add insult to injury, reminding him bitterly of the past. "_Any _scene."

House gave Wilson a scathing glance, using his cane to probe the elevator button when they reached it. "Nope," he replied coolly.

Wilson studied him somewhat dubiously but the doors to the elevator opened just then, people spilling forth, and he had to get out of the way until they'd passed before he could follow House within, not knowing what to say.

"I don't need a chaperone," House dryly muttered when the elevator began to descend.

"Maybe_ I_ do," Wilson responded with ire.

House shot him a glance but then chuckled, making the tension in Wilson's shoulders ease a little.

The elevator doors opened on the main floor and the two of them walked out together. It only took a moment for House to spot Cuddy, surrounded by a group of females whose joined voices made him think of hens, each one eagerly clucking over the next in their awe and enthusiasm and well-wishes. Cuddy looked both pleased and embarrassed by the attention but she still managed it with dignity, which somehow didn't surprise him. If it had been in regards to any other happenstance, he would have been proud of his Cuddy. But she wasn't his Cuddy anymore. Hadn't been for a long time now, he regretfully acknowledged to himself.

Lucas stood nearby, but not close enough to be stuck inside the inner circle of attentive females, his expression reflecting pride, and for a moment House paused, just watching as Cuddy shot a look Lucas's way, one that reflected her joy at her engagement. Suddenly a pang shot through him, not an unexpected one by any means but not one of jealousy, as he'd perhaps been anticipating. That wasn't to say he wasn't or wouldn't be jealous of Lucas in the days to come. It was just that in this moment, he was hit with the fact that while Lucas might not have proposed from the balcony where House had made his announcement only a little over a year ago, he _had _proposed in the general vicinity, Cuddy having been by the nurse's station when it apparently went down. And while House's actions had led to his world coming down around his ears, hurting Cuddy unintentionally in the process, Lucas's had resulted in jubilation and brought Cuddy… happiness. Well, maybe there _was_ some jealousy in being faced with that fact, but mostly, what he was feeling right now was regret washing over him. That and the realization that he had indeed just lost everything he'd wanted for quite some time now.

Wilson watched his friend circumspectly from the corner of his eye and what he saw scarring House's features, causing him to look suddenly years older than he had when they'd arrived at work together that morning, pained him. He came to a halt, watching as House approached Cuddy, suddenly unable to do the same. Perhaps House was a better man than him, he thought to himself, a strange, new concept indeed to contemplate. But Wilson just couldn't bring himself to congratulate her after seeing the raw emotions dart across House's expression before he locked them away once more beneath his mask. It was true that Wilson had witnessed the proposal, but only from the confines of the clinic, and his first thought had not been well-wishes but the need to break it to House gently just in case, before anyone else had opportunity and did it carelessly.

Cuddy looked up just then and spotted House as he approached, her heart rate speeding up, whether in fear or something else, she didn't know and didn't have time to analyze. But her smile faltered on her lips as her eyes searched his face for clues as to how this was going to go down so that she could hopefully be prepared for whatever came. Those around her noticed her expression and glanced in the direction she was looking, quieting down as they parted to make way for him, most lingering in hopes of overhearing whatever crass comment the infamous Dr. House would make. Very few had the presence of mind to remember the year before and consider that this might be an unpleasant happenstance in his life. The majority just saw his coming and either moved out of his way in self-preservation or stayed close in interest, not expecting that he'd come within a hundred yards of Cuddy right now as moments like this, oozing with cheerfulness or whatever slanderous word he'd choose to refer to it by, generally sent him running for cover, strongly objecting to the contamination of emotional situations, specifically "happy" ones.

House ignored the crowd still milling about as he came to a stop in front of Cuddy, her eyes meeting his and then darting away in succession as she braced herself for whatever he was about to say, her shoulders coming up as she gathered her arsenal about her while tossing her hair back over her shoulder before returning her eyes to his. House read her disquiet easily and glanced in Lucas's direction to see if the man had moved from his spot incase House really did say something inappropriate or hurtful to her in this moment. But while Lucas watched them somewhat curiously, an expression going beyond curiosity also upon his face which House didn't take time to decipher, he had remained where he was, clearly not about to intervene. That thought actually _bothered_ House, which was internally disturbing since it wasn't like he _wanted _Lucas present for this. He hadn't wanted _this _at all. And he _certainly _didn't want to be forced into recognizing that Cuddy could _need _to be protected from _him_. But all the same, House had no problem reading Cuddy, seeing through her act of external strength to the fear and tension within, and it irritated him to _not _have Lucas come to her side in the event that she needed protecting from the harsh things he was capable of saying at times like these when the situation was close to going beyond what he knew how to emotionally take. It wasn't that he _enjoyed _knowing what he was capable of or contemplating the fact that he'd hurt Cuddy on more than one occasion in the past. It was just that… if Lucas _was _the better man for her, if he _was_ the one who would be at her side from here on out, it would have perhaps settled better with _him _to believe the guy would do whatever it took to… protect her from _whatever _threat was out there. _Even _if that threat was him.

Sighing in dismay, both at his damning thoughts and Cuddy's reaction to him, he just met her eyes for a moment, contemplating carefully the words he would choose. In the end he determined to go with something simple and if there were traces of defeat in his voice, they were nothing compared to how he was feeling within. Clearing his throat loudly he forced himself to mumble a gruff, "Congratulations, Cuddy," not once allowing his eyes to fall upon the ring he knew would adorn her finger now and every day forward. And with that he turned and started to walk away, Cuddy too speechless to reply.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me, House?" Lucas called out cheerfully then, pushing off the counter that he'd been leaning against.

House stopped and turned to look in his direction, not having anticipated that Lucas would say anything at all. But it was at really looking at him that it came to him what Lucas's expression had been from a moment before. It wasn't just pride that he could now claim Cuddy as his. _This _was smugness, and _perhaps_, triumph. Still, no matter how he felt internally, House at least _purposed_ to rise above. Frankly, this was bad enough without giving people something more to talk about. He didn't want this day to go down as the day the infamous Dr. House broke _again_, this time all over a woman who had somehow managed to _crush_ his already brittle existence. Furthermore, he was a little worn down from the weight of the past suddenly rearing its ugly head to bear down upon him. So he pushed past the retort that might have been on the cusp of leaving his mouth and mutely nodded, limping slowly in Lucas's direction, ignoring the hush that had fallen behind him in the confusion that some had felt in Lucas's declaration and how it should be taken as they pondered just why he'd _care_ to be congratulated by Dr. House and why his question carried some measure of perhaps unintentional provocation in it, most blaming it on Lucas's occasional bouts with daftness.

House could feel Cuddy staring a hole through the back of his head and flippantly thought in irony how he could almost _smell_ her fear that this would result in some sort of showdown as he heard her heels click tentatively upon the floor a couple times, moving in their direction and yet halting uncertainly, not having closed even half of the gap that lay between where the three of them stood. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Wilson edge closer, also on the alert. But House didn't intend to give anyone the satisfaction of serving as free entertainment today.

"Congratulations, Lucas," House stated plainly, taking it a step further by switching his cane to his left hand, holding his right out to shake. At first everyone expected House to drill Lucas with his cane in the abrupt movement but they were almost disappointed when his hand came up instead in a strangely professional manner. It was on the tip of House's tongue to acknowledge that Lucas was a lucky man but he swallowed the words that burned his mouth as they went down, determined not to give Lucas the satisfaction of seeing in his expression just how much it pained him to have heard the news he'd really been expecting to receive eventually anyway.

Lucas had always been great at reading people and while House did usually prove a challenge, today House did not appear so hard to read, whether or not that was because Lucas had already drawn his own conclusions about how House would react or because House's mask was genuinely slipping, seemed irrelevant. Lucas only knew that as thrilled as he was that Lisa had said yes, her acceptance of his proposal was sweetened by the fact that right in this moment, he'd proved himself victorious over the man before him. _He _was the better man. _He _was the one Lisa had chosen. _He _was the one who would spend the rest of his life with her beside him. Extending his hand, he took House's and shook it, applying perhaps a little more pressure than necessary but really, could you blame him?

Helpless to avoid rubbing it in just a little bit, Lucas quietly declared, "Looks like the best man won."

House released Lucas's hand and dropped his own to his side, not bothering to change his cane back to his right hand, his mouth firming, but then he nodded curtly before noncommittally replying, "Looks that way."

And House _really _didn't mean for what happened next to take place. He _honestly _didn't. It was not planned; it hadn't even been conceived of as a _possibility_, for as a rule, House was not a physically violent man. Potentially inclined to a volatile state when it came to reacting to an emotional situation, yes, but that usually ended with him using harsh words, not physical violence. Yet when he went to turn away and Lucas chuckled before muttering under his breath, "I told you I'd race you here," something… Something inside him just _snapped._

Coming to a stop, he looked up only to encounter Wilson's gaze, and then the smallest smile curved up one corner of his mouth. And while Wilson had no idea what had just been said between the two men, for it had all been rather quietly done and was far from being within his hearing range, that _smile _triggered as a warning, causing Wilson to hurriedly shake his head, trying to discourage House from whatever he was thinking of doing right now. Out of _anyone, _Wilson was the one to know House best. He was also the one most inclined to the task of trying to keep House from carrying out irrational, potentially personally costly acts. And in that moment, that smile didn't bode well, for House _never _smiled as he was right now.

But if Wilson thought the shake of his head would be enough to discourage House, he was deceiving himself. For in the next second he watched with an audible groan as House turned with an agility no one in the room could have anticipated nor would have ever expected to be a remote _possibility, _being that House fell under cripple status, his right hand rising and forming a fist seconds before it made contact with Lucas's smug face.

The resounding crack of bone against bone was accompanied by a sudden hush which then was broken by gasps and the thud of Lucas's back hitting the floor while House struggled to maintain his own balance, somehow managing in the last fateful second to catch himself so that he didn't fall on the floor too as he groaned from the pain radiating from his hand.

Resisting the urge to sarcastically say, "Yeah, you did tell me that, didn't you?", not wanting to give Lucas the satisfaction of having House actually verbalize that this was in any way connected to Cuddy, despite the fact that no one in the room would really doubt that truth from here on out and certainly not the man now sprawled out before him, he instead looked down at him, taking momentary satisfaction in how Lucas's legs were splayed out, one hand probing his bloody nose, while warily watching him for his next move, and plainly stated, "I never did repay you for the damage you did to Wilson's loft. _Or_ for tripping me in the cafeteria that day. Consider us even."

And then as the sound of Cuddy's heels came to his ears as she rushed across the room towards her fiancé, no longer paralyzed by what had happened but dropping to Lucas's side in angst, House turned away, never once looking at her as she gaped after him a moment and then started worriedly checking Lucas over.

House ignored those around him who carefully took steps back and out of his way, disregarding how the security guard was still eyeing him watchfully even if he hadn't closed ranks to stop the fight that was not to be but _could _have been, and calmly limped past Wilson and to the elevator, his gait a little off as he was not used to walking with his cane in his left hand but couldn't exactly switch it back to his right. When it arrived right away he held back his sigh of relief, stepping in and waiting until the doors closed behind him to turn around, not at all surprised when he did to see Wilson had stepped in behind him at the last moment and was now standing at his side, staring at the metal doors before them both.

"How's your hand?" Wilson asked quietly after glancing his way and noting how House was favoring it.

House looked down, his mind otherwise too occupied up until the question had been posed to check it out. He flexed it but as the door opened onto the fourth floor and they stepped off, people then getting on, he dismissively mumbled, "Just sore. Not broken."

Wilson nodded, not saying anything more as they walked to House's office, opening the door and allowing House to enter before him. He made his way to the small fridge and pulled out an icepack from within before opening the door to the conference room to go retrieve a thin hand towel from the drawer under the coffeemaker to wrap it within. Then he returned to House's office, passing it to him before taking a seat in the chair across the desk from where House stood. But House just set the icepack aside, walking over to his shelving unit and removing items with his one good hand, placing them in the empty box which rested on his desk and had appeared in the time that Wilson had used to grab the hand towel with unintentionally dramatic movements.

Wilson watched him in stunned silence for several minutes as he went back and forth around the room, then opening and closing desk drawers, throwing more items within the rapidly filling box. "What… What are you doing?" he finally managed to stutter.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" House wryly replied as he looked briefly over at him, the sarcasm with which he'd meant to say it failing in the delivery.

"House…" Wilson began, falling silent when he didn't know how to follow that up. It wasn't that he misunderstood House's motivations or thought him to be misjudging how this could play out, but quite the opposite; that he understood his friend too well and begrudgingly accepted this was a foregone conclusion to the fatalistic happenings of the day.

"Look, this is the way it has to be, Wilson," he muttered tersely. "If you didn't see this coming… Then you're an idiot."

Wilson would have _appreciated_ the opportunity to counter his statement; hell, he would have _liked _the chance to have been offended by the insult, but the way House then turned away in defeat, his frustration driving him to hit his _injured _hand hard on the desk before he could think to avoid hurting it further, forced Wilson to swallow what he wanted to say, instead rising to his feet to grab the icepack and hand it to House who was groaning and breathing hard through clenched teeth.

House shook his head but Wilson huffed out a breath and then forced him to take it with his good hand. "Take care of your hand. _I'll…_keep packing for you."

House looked up at him, studying him, but Wilson didn't say anything more, instead turning to reach for the over-sized tennis ball on the desk, juggling it awkwardly between his hands for a second before closing his eyes with a grimace and placing it within the box. House's lips pressed together at Wilson's unspoken emotion and he dropped his eyes but then placed the icepack on his knuckles as requested, turning away.

"Thanks," he acknowledged softly.

Wilson just nodded, continuing to work behind him. "I'll carry it out to the car for you," he mumbled a few minutes later, trying to better organize the box so that he could cram in a few more items House had directed him to grab. "And… And you can take my car back to the loft when you're… when you're done here. I'll grab a cab home." With a choked laugh he added, "It's a good thing we rode together today. You're in no condition to ride and I'm a crap motorcyclist."

House nodded in silent agreement, grateful for how Wilson opted to deflect some of the tension in the room _for him _into an attempt at humor, however lame it might have been, and then he turned, setting the icepack down momentarily on his chair to open the door to the conference room, leaving Wilson alone in his office, thankful that he had finished his ultimate case last Friday and another one had yet to come in. Chase and Thirteen were both down in the clinic, Foreman had been called into assist in the Neurology wing, and Taub had taken a personal day because his wife had discovered his latest indiscretion and had served him with divorce papers. House was just thankful to not have to deal with any of them right now. What he wasn't prepared for was Cuddy to walk in just then, though perhaps if she was the Cuddy he used to know, he'd have expected her long before this.

"House!" Cuddy gritted out from clenched teeth, clearly pissed off as she had already started yelling at him before she'd even closed the conference door behind her. "What the _hell _were you _thinking_ down there?! That was totally unnecessary and uncalled for! Do you honestly thinkI'll let you _get away_ with doing whatever you see fit to do, acting like a eight year old child who didn't get what he wanted?! Do you _not realize _that the hospital could get sued?! That _you _could?! For the _millionth _time?! Or since you were clearly just thinking of yourself and what would make _you _feel better, do you think you are _invincible _and immune to the possibility of getting _fired?_"

House didn't make eye contact with her, ignoring her momentarily as he walked over to grab his favorite coffee mug, intent on taking it with him. While he almost appreciated the fact that she was handling him… _this_, by looking at it based off of its legal ramifications and how it could result in an employment status change, rather than by really looking at the personal implications of why he'd have done what he did and… well, what _that _said, it didn't change the fact that the idea of Lucas suing was laughable, especially given he'd kind of be suing Cuddy in the process, since the hospital was a second child to her.

Cuddy watched him in clear annoyance, her arms crossed over her chest, and she rolled her eyes when she thought he intended to pour himself a cup of coffee as if nothing had just happened. When he didn't, turning back in her direction with the empty mug in hand, she frowned her confusion but then opened her mouth to continue with the scolding.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to come up here and yell at me," he muttered under his breath, contradicting his thoughts of a moment ago, cutting her off and still not glancing her way.

"Well _excuse me,_" she hissed. "But my boyfriend just got _punched_ by an ass and I had to see to him first."

"Fiancé," Wilson amended loudly from where he sat silently in the other room, having taken a seat after putting the last item into the box, the walls not being soundproof enough for any of them to not hear the other and therein receiving a glare from both House _and_ Cuddy for his correction.

House reached to grab the door leading into his office with his injured hand, as his other one was holding onto the mug, but Cuddy caught sight of his swollen knuckles and sighed tiredly before waving him off, opening the door herself before he could do any such thing.

House didn't say anything at her gesture, annoyed at receiving aid from her of all people, and instead limped to the box, shoving things around a bit to find a way to put the mug within while protecting it from cracking, should the box be jostled in getting it back home.

Cuddy caught sight of the overflowing box then and shot a surprised glance around the room before she calmed, huffing out a breath before rolling her eyes and dryly saying, "I'm not _firing_ you. I probably _should,_ because you're _insane_, but I'm not."

"Not _yet _anyway," she added a second later, thinking of how the board would react to this when it reached their ears, shooting a glance Wilson's way.

Wilson looked away however, remaining slouched in his seat, and Cuddy refocused her attention on House. But he didn't acknowledge anything she said, instead walking around his desk to open the top drawer of his desk to pull out an envelope, passing it to her without pause, grimacing when her engagement ring flashed before him in the process. For a second he wondered at the fact that she hadn't yelled at him _more_, but then, he hadn't exactly presented her with a sparring partner so that might have taken away from her pleasure in continuing to lecture him or in taking it one step further and dismembering him completely.

Cuddy frowned and then her breath caught in her throat as she took a step back, yet uncertainly accepted the envelope all the same. She stared at it for a second while House turned away to fiddle with his computer mouse, beginning to delete personal files.

"You aren't going to be fired, House," she repeated quietly, thinking how incredibly unbelievable anyone but the three of them would find it to hear her reassuring him in the aftermath of what he'd just done.

"Well thanks for the reassurance, but it's a moot point since I'm quitting," he muttered scathingly through his teeth, continuing with what he was in the midst of.

If her hand shook a little when she reached out to make contact with him, Cuddy hoped it would go unnoticed. Placing her hand hesitantly on his forearm, she said, "House, _don't_ do this."

His fingers stilled on the keyboard as his eyes shifted over to settle upon where her hand lay on his arm, his lips tightening when his eyes fell upon her ring once more. "It's already done," he stated evenly before looking away.

Cuddy released him, biting down on the inside of her lip before turning to escape before the tears rapidly filling her eyes could spill over and require an explanation for her seemingly excessively emotional response.

"I'll be giving you my 90 days notice by the end of the week," Wilson spoke up then, his tone suppressed while yet deceptively cavalier, drawing startled looks from both of them.

"Wilson, no," House sharply muttered, shaking his head.

But Wilson gave him a fierce look before asking, "Now who's the idiot? If you go, I go. That's just the way it is. Maybe I can't just up and quit today because I'm not about to do that to my terminal, dying patients, but the minute you turned your resignation over, my decision was made. I just need some time to refer patients to other doctors first. Not to mention update my resume and gather character references and recommendations."

Cuddy's eyes had closed when Wilson had spoken up, once she'd processed his statement, but now she opened them only to turn away from the door, making her way instead over to the chair in the corner of House's office, sinking down into it rather unsteadily.

House was very aware of her movement but kept his eyes upon Wilson. "I haven't even started looking for a new job," he gruffly pointed out. "And what are the chances that we'd _both _be hired at the same place of employment? No, Wilson. You aren't going to quit. Don't be stupid. It's not worth it. And anyway, you're trying to make something with Sam. In the event that I take a job out of state, are you seriously going to follow me?"

"House, you aren't going to change my mind," Wilson intoned somberly. "I… Sam's been back for a couple months now and _I'm _still not sure whether we're going to be able to make this work long-term. But you've… been in my life since the first time she left. And as much as I might complain about you," he huffed. "Everyone knows you're my best friend. Sam will do what she wants to do. If she's really in this… we'll make it work. If not… then I'll deal with that. Besides, you _hate _change. Even if you don't want to, you'll look for a job close by first, looking to minimize the impact this decision is going to have on your life. But if it ends up that we have to take jobs far away from Princeton, so be it. And just so you know, you're underestimating just how in demand I am."

Before House could reply to Wilson's assertions, Cuddy's tremulous voice drifted to them, having finally emerged from her own tortured thoughts, and she numbly clarified, "So in marrying Lucas, I'm going to lose my two best friends?"

Wilson looked at House, who rolled his eyes _despite_ how surprised he was to find Cuddy considered _him _to be one of her best friends, especially considering how hard she'd tried to create distance between them over the last nine months. "Wilson's _not _leaving," he argued, not seeing the point in saying anything more than that.

"Yes I am," Wilson repeated firmly, straightening in his chair, his back to Cuddy and eyes on House.

House narrowed his eyes at him, pursing his mouth but then, not unfeelingly, regardless of how he worded his response, glanced in Cuddy's direction and instructed with a shrug, "Make new ones. The ones you have right now _suck_. And anyway, you've got… _him._ You don't need us."

Wilson's pager went off then and he glanced at it with resignation before getting out of the chair he'd been sitting in to make his exit. "I have to take a call," he explained as he paused in the doorway before leaving. "I'll come back to carry out your things in ten minutes or so."

Cuddy's eyes fell to the carpet as Wilson slipped out, the still unopened envelope lying in her lap. Without another word, she pushed herself out of the chair, allowing the resignation letter to fall unnoticed from where it had been lying. Turning, she took the few steps necessary to bring her to the door, her hand shakily meeting the glass, needing to get away and process for a moment.

"Cuddy," House began, about to point out she'd dropped his letter. But when she froze and he read the defeat in her body language he thought better of it, knowing she could come back to pick it up later if that made this easier for her. Shaking himself he swallowed hard and then mumbled, "I'll try to reason with Wilson. And… I really am… happy… for you, Cuddy. I… wish you the best." Taking a breath, he momentarily allowed himself to be grateful Wilson had gone and wouldn't hear what he was about to say before he brokenly juxtaposed, "And I'm sorry. For the inconvenience I might cause you in leaving. I… It's just… It's either that or stick around and try to make the best of things. But… I'm not over you," he quietly acknowledged, "and… if I stay, I _will _go back to the Vicodin. Cuddy… I've got to avoid that. At all costs."

Cuddy choked back a sob but then pushed the door open, leaving without making any response, and House watched her go and then expelled his breath before turning back to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, knowing he couldn't do anything more for Cuddy than he'd already committed to.

* * *

Lucas sat in Cuddy's office, waiting for her to return, one hand prodding his bruised jaw, grateful that the extent of his injuries had only included that and a bloody nose that looked worse than it was, rather than a broken one. He smiled to himself, thinking of the attention he would now get in the days ahead from Lisa for the injuries he had sustained while House went before the disciplinary committee and was at the very least, suspended for his actions. He pictured Cuddy up in House's office right now, smugly picturing her eyes flashing as she came to his defense, her chest heaving gloriously, and how she'd despise House from this point forward, severing whatever scrap of shredded material their precarious "friendship" had hung by, guaranteeing him that he had nothing to worry about in their continued relationship, since there wouldn't _be _one.

He looked up with a chagrined smile when the door to the office opened in the midst of his musings and she came in, hoping that he looked pathetic enough in his still blood-speckled shirt to guarantee he'd get laid, maybe even right now, in her office, which she'd always firmly expressed was on her "Never Gonna Happen" list but now seemed like a distinct possibility. For a second he visualized her closing the blinds and locking the door before sinking to the floor in front of him to unzip his pants, any satisfaction on her part unnecessary in her desire to repay him for the blow he'd taken in the lobby of her hospital before _countless_ watching eyes, stroking his ego, amidst other things. But the visualization was disrupted when he confidently looked at her hand to smugly note the token proving she now belonged to him, only to find it missing.

Cuddy noticed where his eyes had gone and how his face fell in confusion before meeting hers, waiting for an explanation detailing how she'd been forced to remove it after being called in for a patient consult or something, and it gave her pause but not enough to stop her from continuing to him, sitting down on the couch beside him, her right hand then coming up, hovering over his until he opened his hand without thinking of her intentions, allowing her to drop the dejected ring there.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly, still stunned to have been given his ring back.

Cuddy looked at him and then grew teary-eyed with regret for what she was about to do to him. She reached up with a hand to briskly wipe the tears that had already fallen on her cheek away with the back of a finger. "I'm so sorry, Lucas. But I can't marry you," she managed to murmur.

"What?" he queried in evident disbelief, turning his body towards her while moving away from her, all at the same time.

She swallowed hard, trying not to be wounded by the distance he'd put between them and how doing this would sever another relationship she'd come to count on, one that was especially beneficial for her in ways ranging from his assistance with Rachel to his dependability in always being present when she needed him to do something for her; even if it _might_ in the end allow her to keep two other relationships she hadn't given much thought or attention to in quite some time but had suddenly discovered she couldn't do without. Glancing away she took a second to calm herself before once more meeting Lucas's eyes, registering the shock there that overrode any other emotion he might have been feeling and any she might have expected to witness. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. "But… I can't marry you. I don't… I don't _love _you Lucas. I thought I did but… I don't think I do."

Anger started to stir in his expression and while she supposed it was justifiable, it made her shrink back from him all the same.

"You told me just this morning that you loved me," he countered argumentatively. "And don't tell me it was because we had just gotten done having sex, you'd had an orgasm _for once_, and your _hormones _were speaking for you. It was six months of having sex before you said that the first time."

Cuddy cringed at his statements, her eyes closing briefly before she reopened them to meet his disgusted expression as he huffed out an irritable breath. Something within her wanted to snap at the implication that the lack of regular orgasms on her part was somehow solely _her_ fault, as if she was intentionally _withholding_ pleasure from _herself, _almost as if he expected her to at least _pretend _to have them for _his _sake, and instead steadied herself, keeping her response to the point she had been aiming to make. "I _thought _I loved you, Lucas. I really did. And it _had nothing _to do with sex or hormones or anything," she amended, practically whispering the last part in her embarrassment of having that topic come up at all. "But today… When you proposed, I was so happy about the idea of getting married that I didn't pause to consider whether or not I was happy because I was getting married or… happy because I was marrying _you._"

Lucas's expression relaxed; which caught her off guard and rendered her mute. After a second had passed he reassuringly said, "There's nothing wrong with being happy to get married, Lisa. You're a woman. It's almost a foregone conclusion that you'll be ecstatic over a proposal. Being happy about that doesn't negate that you are happy to be marrying me. Of course you are happy to be marrying me."

Cuddy moistened her lips, recognizing that she was going to be forced into laying this out for him. Biting her lip she looked away before finding his eyes again. "When House hit you… My first reaction was shock. I don't know what was said between you. I don't even _care _what was said between you. I was just stunned to have him actually punch you. My second reaction… was to bite back a smile," she admitted uncomfortably, forcing herself to come right out and say it. Before she could stop herself she added, "That's not exactly an appropriate response to watching someone you just agreed to marry, being hurt. And any doubts I might have had were erased in considering after the fact that my third reaction was that I hoped he'd do it again. That he'd tackle you and beat you to a pulp."

Lucas didn't look especially pleased, and why would he, but he didn't look all that offended either and that only served to confound her. With a dismissive shrug, he grunted, "So you liked the idea of us fighting over you. Lisa, don't get me wrong. I'm not especially thrilled at the fact that you somehow _enjoyed_ my suffering. But there are worse things than you getting off on seeing two grown men fight for you. Heck, _I've _thought of you and some girl off the street both wanting a piece of this so bad you'd go at it, duking it out naked in a mud-wrestling pit, more than once while on a stakeout." With a suggestive grin, he volunteered, "And besides, I know you'll make it more than worth my pain when we get home tonight. And _I'll _enjoy _that_."

Cuddy sighed, struggling to refrain from rolling her eyes, incredulous at his sudden inability to comprehend what she was saying. "Lucas, I've really, _really _enjoyed being with you. But it's over. I'm done. I'm ending things." To soften the blow, she hesitantly put in, "And you deserve better than me. You deserve someone who will love you completely."

Lucas was back to frowning and he slowly got to his feet, not liking this at all. "Why are you saying this?" he asked then, his voice one of frustration. "Fine, you don't know if you love me. But even if you don't, you _will_. You just need some time. It isn't like you love someone else."

"But that's just it," she interrupted to say, smoothing her skirt with her palms as she watched him, somewhat sorrowfully take in her words. "I do. I do love someone else."

Lucas froze and stared at her before challenging, "Are you telling me that you're ending things with me because you love _House?_"

Cuddy worried her lip between her teeth but then nodded slowly, now knowing that was the underlying, great truth of her life, no matter how miserable it had made her at times for it to be so.

"You're breaking up with me to get together with _House?_" he clarified, his expression hardening.

Cuddy released her grasp on her bottom lip and exhaled through her nose before shaking her head, almost pained to have to negate that summary. "I don't know that he'll be willing to… to be with me… after everything," she admitted honestly. "But Lucas, I know I can't be with you when I'm… still in love with him."

"You're _in love_ with him? And… wait. _Still?! _You've been in love with him this _whole time?!_ _Seriously?!_" he demanded in clear aggravation, his hands coming up to clench at empty air as he gritted his teeth together.

She just nodded, now playing with her hands where they were in her lap.

"This is _unbelievable_," he sharply announced, pacing back and forth fitfully.

Cuddy nodded again, wishing she'd closed her door in anticipation of this, even if no one appeared to be in close proximity to her office.

"You do this and… I'm _not_ taking you back Lisa when he hurts you a week from now and you suddenly realize the _mistake_ you've made," Lucas threatened, even if she could tell that part of him was fearful she'd accept that.

Cuddy looked at him but then a slow tenuous smile came over her lips. "I really don't expect that he'll have me, Lucas," she murmured. "And the last thing I'm counting on is him being able to make this work _perfectly_, should he be willing to _try_. But… what can I say? I… I still _want him._ After everything… I _really do_. And… I don't expect you to wait either. I… I really hope you find the right woman for _you_, Lucas. I'm just sorry for wasting so much of your time in not knowing what _I _wanted."

Lucas rolled his eyes but then turned, leaving her office without another word, and she watched him go with a mixture of relief and an odd sense of euphoria, suddenly feeling free from whatever had induced her to be… unfaithful to _herself_ and what _she _wanted in looking instead for what she _should _want. Getting up after a moment she glanced out into the clinic to note that Lucas really had left before heading into her bathroom, hurriedly putting herself back together in her haste to hopefully catch House before he could leave.

* * *

Cuddy had just exited her office when she ran right into Chase, the both of them apologizing over one another for practically knocking the other down.

As Chase backed away he smiled and said, "Heard about your engagement. Congratulations."

Cuddy sighed as his eyes went down to her hand, looking for her ring, and she quickly said, "Yeah. It didn't last long though. I… I already ended it."

Chase's eyes rose back up to meet hers, his expression one of surprise before an even bigger grin replaced his smile of a moment before. "I also heard House punched him. Well, good for him. I take it that changed your mind for you? Finally realized you're still in love with _him?_"

Cuddy gave him a dirty look, seriously annoyed to find Chase was aware of how she'd felt all this time when she herself had been clueless in her suppression of just exactly how she _did _feel. Composing herself, she reluctantly huffed out a breath but then assertively replied, "'Yes' to your first statement. 'Don't encourage him' to the second. 'No comment' on the third. And as for the fourth, that's none of your business Dr. Chase and I _better not _hear you're making bets on my personal life because of this because if I hear you leave me right now to do any such thing, I will _personally _disembowel you."

He laughed, too pleased with what he'd discovered to react as he normally would with fear and trembling, ignoring her irritation with him and the clear threat he didn't really believe just now she'd ever follow through on, for he'd seen House do much worse and get away with it, even if he knew full well that he'd _never _get away with the things House did, and then wasted no time cheerily admitting, "I guess since you've already made me $3,000 richer today, I can refrain from betting further."

Cuddy's eyes narrowed as she stared him down, somewhat satisfied when he squirmed under the look she was giving him, taking a reluctant step back from her. "You made $3,000 off of me breaking off my engagement to Lucas?" she clarified in evident confoundedness.

Chase's smile came back, though it was much more subdued when he stated, "It would have been $5,000 if you'd held off until tomorrow on ending things. $2,000 was for the engagement taking place. And another $1,000 for it being broken within the first week. But if I'd been right in betting exactly one day would pass in between your engagement and the dissolution of it, I'd have made another $2,000." For understandable reasons he kept himself from telling her he'd more than recuperate his losses at the first sign she and House were together, as long as it took place within the next forty-eight hours. While he wasn't violating his word that he wouldn't make further bets, at least, not right now anyway, there were still open bets waiting resolution and he didn't want to harm his chances of collecting on them.

Cuddy huffed in consternation but pushed past him, not about to deal with this right now, having bigger dragons to slay.

"It's about time," he called after her then, smiling mischievously.

For a second she paused, turned, and then gave him a semi-amused smile, before continuing on her way.

* * *

Cuddy was halfway across the lobby when she caught sight of Wilson, House's box of things in his arms, holding the front entrance door open with his back as he waited for someone to exit ahead of him, then intending to follow them out.

"Wilson, wait," she commanded, rushing across the lobby in his direction as quickly as she dared in the heels she had on, thinking that at least she now knew House wasn't yet gone even as she hoped to God that no one was watching her desperately run Wilson's way to cut him off from making his exit _with_ House's things.

He turned his head to look at her and waited as she approached, a reluctant expression on his face nevertheless, certain she was going to plead with him to talk some sense into House when he knew it wouldn't make a bit of difference anyway.

"He's not going anywhere," she informed him adamantly as she slowed at his side, reaching within the box in his arms to dig out House's tennis ball, feeling that was the most important item needing to make an immediate return to his desk, she being just the person to ensure that took place.

Wilson looked at her skeptically but then doubtfully asked, "He tell you that?"

Cuddy bit her lip, worrying it, but she brought her shoulders up all the same and shook her hair out behind her before asserting, "No. But he will. Just… give me a few minutes to talk with him."

Wilson exhaled harshly and looked away before mumbling, "Cuddy," his exasperation evident. Glancing back at her, he noticed the file she'd tucked under her arm before reaching within the box for the tennis ball and pointedly said, "It doesn't matter how genius House would be proven to be in solving whatever case you've found him. He's not going to stay just because you've found him another challenge."

"Please," she entreated somewhat breathlessly, ignoring his slight reprimand. "Just… please. Hold off for a few minutes."

"I have a patient I need to see," he stated then, not intentionally being thoughtlessly direct but not wanting to give her false hope House would stay around, either. Pushing on, he continued, "I don't _have_ a few minutes."

"_James_," she murmured, her hand finding his arm, squeezing lightly.

He puffed out a breath of air but nodded slowly, reluctantly adding a weary, "_Okay_."

"Thanks," she declared, hesitating only a second before leaning up to press a small kiss to his cheek, then turning to hurry towards the elevator.

He watched her go, wondering what her plan was, hoping she understood how unrealistic it was for _either _of them to stay with circumstances as they were. Trying to think of where to set the box for the time being he turned around and headed back the way he'd come, not really interested in bringing it all the way back upstairs needlessly and thinking maybe sticking it temporarily in his locker room closet would do for the present.

* * *

Cuddy paused outside House's office, taking a calming breath before pushing the door open, thankful to find him still alone. He was standing forlornly in the middle of his office, just gazing about, and a pang shot through her chest before she told herself there was no reason to doubt her ability to talk him into staying.

House looked up when the door opened, expecting to see one of his team and have it now fall to him to explain he was leaving. Or rather, to find a way _not _to explain just _why_ he was leaving. His eyes settled on Cuddy with surprise before he remembered that she probably had remembered the envelope she still had to open in order to make his notice official. But the tennis ball, _his _tennis ball, securely held in her hand but now being thrust back upon his desk in the place it had been a half hour ago, seemed to contradict such a conclusion, almost _annoyingly_ so.

"Call your team," she ordered next, holding the file straight out in front of her for him to take, unable to open with a confession of undying love because she was too nervous that he'd straight out reject her. "You've got a case."

House stared at her and then pulled himself together, looking away before flatly stating, "Cuddy, I'm not playing games with you."

Her voice was much more tentative when she dropped the file to her side and allowed herself to acknowledge, "House, I don't want you to go anywhere. I… I need you here."

He froze at her statement but ultimately reached for the phone on his desk and said, "I'll page Foreman. Maybe he's free. You can offer him the job and see if he's ready to rise to the occasion and head up Diagnostics in my place again."

Cuddy took the several steps necessary to find herself before him, a foot separating them as they faced each other, her left hand catching his left forearm after tossing the file on his desk and therein causing him to waver in his confusion, both at her sudden proximity and the "No" that then left her lips.

"No?" he echoed, questioning her, his blue eyes probing the depths of hers.

"No," she repeated, shaking her head, not breaking the eye contact they'd established.

"I can't stay here," House mumbled a second later after clearing his throat uncomfortably, the moment even more awkward for him as her hand had remained gripping his arm in order to hold him back from making the call he'd intended to, heat radiating out from where her fingertips rested against his skin.

"You can," she corrected. And then with no hesitation whatsoever, she continued by casually saying, "I've ended it," her chin up almost willfully in admitting that she'd actually gone and done what he'd internally wanted her to.

House's eyes widened, first in bewilderment and then in uncertainty, and Cuddy's hand left his arm when she was certain he was listening to her, not at all surprised when his eyes then wandered to search for her ring. Not finding it, his mouth worked a few times as he grappled for the ability to formulate a response before his expression fell and he almost painfully said, "You shouldn't have."

Fairly certain of why he was saying this, once more regretting what she'd said in the months since he'd returned from Mayfield to find her dating someone else and grieving for whatever blows she'd landed that could make him think that was true, she smiled softly and murmured, "No, House. You are wrong. The truth is… I should have ended it a long time ago."

He didn't reply, not knowing how to, waiting for her to give him some idea of just how he was supposed to respond to her. But when she didn't say anything he took a step back and away from her, needing that distance, and begrudgingly instructed, "You should call him and tell him it was just a case of cold feet, Cuddy."

"But it wasn't," she answered easily, one shoulder rising slightly and quite indifferently.

House shook his head wearily and then met her gaze to rebuke her with, "I told you I'd talk to Wilson."

"This isn't about not wanting to lose _Wilson_," she interrupted. "I _don't_, but that's not what this is about. _You, House, _are the one I don't want to lose; the one I _can't _lose; the one I _won't _lose."

And with that, she reached for him, her hands coming up to tremulously alight on both sides of his face, her fingertips cautiously trying to pull his head down in her direction to convince him the only way she felt she knew how as her eyelashes fluttered, her head tilting slightly to the side to align their faces better. But he kept her from having her way through his hands coming up to catch her biceps and steady them both while stopping anything from progressing quickly beyond what he could handle and immediately thereafter, finding to be out of their control, drawing a grimace from his mouth when even the small pressure he exerted in grasping onto her caused his injured hand to radiate pain outward and up into his arm.

Cuddy turned her head to the side, her eyes falling on his right hand as she eased her hold on his face in concession to his clear disinterest in kissing her right now. Not giving herself time to retreat in a state of rejection, she released her hold completely, but only to turn and take his hand when he then let go of her, examining it carefully before bringing her mouth down to tenderly rest light, airy kisses upon each bruised, swollen knuckle.

House was so caught off guard that he made no move to stop her, not realizing he'd stopped breathing until the burn in his chest brought him out of his haze, his eyes blinking then in rapidity, as if to catch up with the seconds that had passed since he'd last understood exactly what was going on.

As he drew in a raspy breath that told her he wasn't as unaffected as she might have concluded him to be, her eyes came up to meet his and she then more confidently continued her explanation, "When I came up here to yell at you, I _was _a little upset with you, but mostly, I was upset with _myself_… Because when you hit him, while I didn't really want anything bad to happen to Lucas, I _wanted _you to keep hitting him. I _wanted _you to fight for me. I wanted to know that after all this time, you still _wanted _to have me belong to you."

"I wasn't fighting for you," he deflected almost immediately, looking away from her as he carefully removed her fingers from where they'd wrapped around his hand.

"Okay," she conceded, tucking a lock of unruly hair back off her forehead. "But that doesn't change the fact that I wished you were. That rather than being understandably outraged on Lucas's behalf, I was too busy trying to keep myself from smiling at finding proof that you might still have strong feelings for me and that perhaps I _wasn't _justsomething you wanted because I was taken but that what you felt ran deeper than that."

House found himself growing more and more confused with each passing second but he managed to argue, "You went to him though. And you _did _come up to yell at me."

Cuddy nodded, an oddly apologetic smile on her lips when she admitted, "Sometimes what we want to do _does _in fact get overruledby what we think we _should _do."

Looking away from her he demanded under his breath, "What are you trying to say here Cuddy? Because I'm not sure where any of this is coming from. I'm not even sure _you _do. It's all highly suspect, considering it's contradictory to everything you've been telling me since I found out about you and Lucas."

House was _scared_ of her she realized suddenly, startled to become aware of that surprising fact. It was silly, for she didn't see anything for him to be _afraid of_, but then it dawned on her that she too was quite scared in this, and not _just_ of the possibilities and potentially disastrous consequences that could come from this conversation, but of _him_ and what surrendering her heart to him would implicate. Oh, physically she could undoubtedly outrun him, but beyond that, he had far more impact on her _survival_ than she would ever willingly admit.

Taking a deep breath she looked up at him, her eyes flicking over his lips for a second before refocusing on his eyes. "I'm saying that I love you, House," she confessed softly. "I'm saying I owe you an explanation and I will give you one, but accepting Lucas's proposal was a mistake on my part. Dating him _this long_ was a mistake. Because while part of me thought he was what I _should _look for, _you _were all I ever wanted. And I don't just _want you. I need you._"

"For how long?" he asked gruffly after a long moment of mutual staring, unable to meet her eyes once he'd broken the contact.

When she didn't immediately reply, not knowing how to best answer that, his eyes briefly sought out hers and he instead stated, "You'll regret it."

"Regret _what?_" she pressed, needing some clarification.

"Choosing me," he answered reluctantly, looking away as if in admitting this he'd sealed the deal and she would now turn and walk away.

"Because you don't think you can accept Rachel as being a part of any relationship we try for?" she asked almost resignedly, seeing all hopes for _something _between them moving forward rapidly deteriorating.

"Rachel?" House asked bemusedly, shaking his head as if attempting to clear it of the mist of confusion. "What does _Rachel _have to do with_ any_ of this?"

"_House,_ she's my _daughter,_" Cuddy pointed out in frustrated disbelief. "She has _a lot _to do with any potential we have for a relationship to come of this. If you can't accept her as being a part of my life, if you can't accept making her even a small part of yours, you're _right_ in thinking all hopes of a relationship between us are moot and void."

House shook his head dismissively. "That's not at all what I meant though. Cuddy, I can accept your kid. Hell, I'm better with kids than you could know or even _imagine_ giving me credit for. I meant… Well, you _know_ me," he softly confided. "I… say _things._ I… _hurt _you. Being with me… Well, Cuddy, you know the last thing I can promise you is making your life easier or… doing and saying what you'd prefer me to..."

"House," Cuddy dryly remarked, her relief at hearing him say he could accept Rachel not coming across as she focused on relieving him of his concern. "I fully _expect _to regret it and yet I _still _want to be with you."

House did not look reassured. In fact, he looked even more leery of her.

Sighing, she reached for his face again, stroking her fingertips softly through the scruff on his cheeks. "House," Cuddy murmured compellingly, a soft smile alighting on her lips. "We're both going to mess up. But if you think I am going to let you screw _us_ up irreparably, once I've _finally _got my claws into you, you've got another thing coming."

The corner of House's mouth crept up slightly with her assurance and she brought her body closer to his own, needing the contact after all was said and done. "Besides," she added teasingly in an amused whisper. "I'm 95% sure you'll make it up to me. And I'm _counting _on the makeup sex being _out of this world_."

House chuckled and the deep, sexy sound of it had Cuddy's heart racing as her breathing grew shallow at his increasing proximity. When his hands found her waist, bringing her into him, his head descending quickly to meet her lips with his own, apparently satisfied _enough _with her explanation to move forward, she gave herself over to the kiss, moaning a second later at the jolt of electricity shooting up and down her spine while reveling in her newfound discovery that a simple closed-mouth kiss between them could affect her so completely, too enraptured with what she was suddenly feeling wash over her to dwell upon the fact that while kissing Lucas had been nice, _this _was sweet intoxication.

"Make that 96% sure and on the rise," she mumbled against his lips when the kiss broke so that they could take in some much needed air, her heartbeat erratic at best, breath coming in tiny drags of air.

House smirked against her lips, his hands flexing upon her waist before one slid to cup her rear end, pulling her even more firmly against him as his tongue demanded entrance into her mouth, her hands gripping onto his shoulder blades desperately in response so as to guarantee not an inch would come between them.

"_You're kissing?!_" Wilson incredulously and haughtily declared a bit too loudly from where he stood in the doorway with the door gaping halfway open behind him.

Cuddy quickly pushed away from House and he reluctantly let her, both of their heads swiveling to meet Wilson's eyes as he ran an exasperated hand through his hair and Cuddy hissed out his name in rebuke for being so loud, unknowingly drawing attention their way as a couple people slowly crept past the room now, looking over Wilson's shoulder to land startled eyes upon House and Cuddy where they stood, their appearance obviously confirming Wilson's words of a moment before and sending them scrambling off to pass the word on.

"Forget it," Wilson huffed, shaking his head, completely oblivious to the presence of people in the hallway behind him. "I don't even _want _an explanation right now. I'll… _go down and retrieve your things_," he muttered, turning and agitatedly walking off, the door shutting behind him.

"Uhhh," Cuddy moaned, pressing her fingers into the side of her forehead, her thumb against the curve of her jaw. "I don't want to _think _about what people are going to say about me by day's end; engaged to one man one moment and making out with another the next."

House laughed at her but his hands reached out for her, drawing her somewhat unwillingly back into him. "Come here and I'll make you feel better," he teased seductively, moving her hair up from one side of her neck to press his lips against her pulse, biting down ever so lightly as he smirked against her skin at her half-hearted protests, even as she allowed him to continue, watching the hallway attentively over his bent shoulder to make sure no one was walking past for the time being.

Pushing him away when his hand suddenly slipped up to cup her breast, she internally scolded herself, warding him off with a hand while firmly stating, "House, I am _not _having sex with you here in your office."

"Your office then?" he asked hopefully, only half joking.

"No!" she bit out, thoroughly put out with him at the question.

"Relax," he muttered with an eye roll. "I'm not _that _ignorant of your confounded scruples."

Her ruffled feathers smoothing out slightly, she pouted unbeknownst to her and directed, "Call your team. You have a case to get busy on before anyone has the time to come to me and ask why you haven't already been suspended for your actions today."

"You're just irritable because you can't help imagining what it would be like to have me bend you over my desk and ravish you right now," he knowingly provoked.

"I wasn't thinking any such thing!" she defended, tossing her hair as her shoulders straightened.

House watched her eyes flicker to his desk right then and he chuckled before raising his eyebrows suggestively and teasingly stating, "Maybe not but you are now, my little minx."

Color quickly suffused the apples of her cheeks and Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes shooting daggers at him. "I'm not _that _easy," she then managed to reply without any hint of desire betraying her further. "And if you hope to get _anything _from me in the days ahead, you _better _count on the fact that you'll have to take me on an actual _date_ first."

House expelled a huff of exasperation but then wheedled in a whine, "Come on, Cuddy. You _know _I don't do the _dating thing!_"

Cuddy tisked his obstinacy but then airily waved her hand in the air as she turned away, walking towards the door, hips swaying provocatively as he hadn't seen them do for him in months. "Fine. Well…, it was good while it lasted."

House groaned, frowning pathetically as he bit out, "_Alright_. You witch. _One date_. But after that it's movies and takeout at your place."

Cuddy paused, turning slightly as she looked over her shoulder at him, an eyebrow raised. "With occasional nights out," she corrected, ignoring what he'd just called her.

He huffed but acquiesced with a bob of his head. "Tonight?" he then inquired, his expression suddenly hopeful.

She smiled at his rush to get it over with, or perhaps, impatience to collect on something else he was eager for. But then she shook her head. Regretfully, she explained, "Lucas might… stop by to collect his stuff. I don't know. We didn't actually think to bring _that _up. In any case, it's probably best that you aren't there when that happens."

"I thought you _liked_ watching me punch him?" House teased, covering for the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach at imagining Lucas back in her house, even if only for a moment.

Cuddy saw through him and smiled enticingly, turning to make her way back towards him. "I _did_," she murmured seductively. "But a repeat performance is _not _what this doctor is ordering for that hand of yours."

"You haven't been a real doctor in years," he scoffed immediately in response.

Cuddy came to a stop, her jaw tightening. Just when he thought she was going to say his shot at taking her _anywhere_ had just flown out the window, Cuddy shot back, "You can take me out tomorrow night. Somewhere _nice_, preferably _expensive, _so you better know _someone _who can do you a favor and get a last minute reservation. And no, you may _not _use Wilson's credit card to pay the bill. And _don't _buy me one of your stupid corsages. We're _not _teenagers going to prom. Pretend you're a man and bring roses for once."

Smirking at his suddenly surprised and clearly offended expression, indicating she'd won that battle of wits, she turned abruptly, throwing her hair back over her shoulder, and pulled the door open, hips swaying enticingly as she walked away, never looking back.

"She's gonna be the death of me," he mumbled under his breath, watching her appreciatively until she was out of sight. And then a slow smile curved his lips as he contemplated just how worth it Lisa Cuddy was before he turned to call his team back, reaching contentedly for the file she'd left on his desk to flip it open.

_(Wow, it's weird to not include lyrics at the end of the chapter after so many of doing exactly that! And come on! You KNOW that I have not one iota of love for Lucas Douglas after all I feel he has personally put me through just in his presence on the show alone this year! So don't even THINK about feeling sorry for him in my portrayal of him or Cuddy's willingness to set him free! :) )_


End file.
